


Discipline

by DestroyShelbeyy



Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Detroit Tigers, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestroyShelbeyy/pseuds/DestroyShelbeyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth Strong is a bright, confident, beautiful young woman. She is also a Dominatrix to the wealthy and powerful of Detroit, Michigan. Her most famous client just so happens to be a starting pitcher for the Detroit Tigers. They have been able to keep their activities quiet but what happens when an unsuspecting catcher starts to ask questions?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Introduction

Sex. It seems to be all anyone ever thinks about these days. From the models on the cover of Sports Illustrated to the "bitches" and "hoes" in the latest rap music video. Sex is a natural part of life--everyone pretty much agrees on that. It can be beautiful and passionate. It can be one of the most fun parts of a relationship. It can be used as a weapon and used as an expression. It can between two total strangers or the longest lasting couple. It can powerful. It can be life-changing. It can even be a job.

I'm a pro-domme (or better known to the non-BDSM community, a Dominatrix). I am from Grand Rapids, Michigan but I live in Detroit. I am twenty-four years old and I have been a pro-domme for two years. One may wonder what possesses a young, seemingly attractive girl to have such a... risque job. One may also wonder what my friends and family think of it. My parents have pretty much accepted that their once-innocent middle child has sprung into a "sexual deviant" (by society's standards). I just don't usually bring up work at the Thanksgiving table.

My obsession for sex began young. I was molested by a friend's dad when I was five. I didn't know it was abuse at the time; I actually enjoyed it. It made me feel good--and that is something that I have had to come to terms with. I remember being six-years-old and having lavish sexual fantasies about Batman. I grew up with these fantasies, my partner changing as my interests did. It all really got more intense when I hit puberty and began to explore my body. I began masturbating a month before my fifteenth birthday and watching pornography started not long after that. Ironically, I didn't have my first kiss until I was seventeen. I constantly thought about sex throughout my adolescence. I would think up these crazy scenarios with my favorite band member or actor. It made me happy and I saw no harm in that.

Even though I'm obsessed with sex, it doesn't make me a whore. I've only had a few sexual partners since my first boyfriend during my senior year of high school. I really keep to myself and I am not much of a "partier." I came to Detroit for school. I began my bachelor's degree at Mercy, eventually wanting to become a physician's assistant. By the end of my fourth year, I was sick of it; so I stopped going and ventured into the BDSM community.

Now, living in Detroit and being a pro-domme, I meet some pretty interesting people. I have a website that people can get my contact information from. High-class business men, married couples trying to spice things up--I get a lot of different situations. But my most famous and fascinating client is surprisingly... Max Scherzer, starting pitcher for the Detroit Tigers. Yes, it's true. Maxwell is into the freaky shit. Our... relations began about a year ago. We have been able to keep it quiet the entire time (knock on wood). It's most riskiest when he flies me out while he is on the road because he needs a fix.

One may wonder what causes a man like Max Scherzer to need such... aggressive techniques. He may look tough and smooth out on the mound and one may think he should be cocky and boisterous but in reality, he doesn't want to be that way. He likes the submissive role because it keeps him grounded. I get a lot of guys like that. He and I have never had actual sex--I just smack him around with a riding crop or latch him to the bed with handcuffs and he gets off on it. I'm not a prostitute.


	2. A Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .

I can't believe you're actually making me do this, I text Max.

Come on. I need this. I'll pay you double, he replies.

I sit for a moment, pondering his offer. Fine. Where do you want me to meet you?

I already sent a car. Should be there any minute.

I sigh and get up from my seat at the airport. I grip the handle of my black snakeskin suitcase and begin to walk toward the exit, my heels clacking against the tile floor. Max insisted that I come see him while he was in Cleveland playing the Indians. I must say, it's not as crazy or as far as other trips I have taken for him. I really shouldn't complain--I mean, he is paying me extra.

A warm breeze smothers my face and blows my black curls behind me as the sliding doors open for me. I scan the area, looking for my driver. I spot him and walk over, smiling.

"Hello," I say kindly, stepping beside the door.

"Hello, Miss Strong. Welcome to Cleveland." The driver--an older white man wearing a black suit--opens the backseat door for me, then taking my suitcase to put in the trunk. "Where to?" He asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"Do you know if there are any Cirilla's around here?" I ask, not even blinking.

His eyes darken in disbelief. "I may have to look that one up..."

Turns out, there is a Cirilla's on the way to the hotel. I force the driver to sit in the parking lot while I go into the sex shop. The door jingles as I step into the small building. I make eye contact with the woman at the cash register and smile pleasantly. Then I get to work. I pick up some handcuffs, a riding crop, flogger, a ball gag and some some new garters (a client of mine destroyed my other pair).

"Will this be all?" The woman asks me in a chirpy voice.

"Yes." I whip out my shiny debit card and hand it to her. She rings up the items one by one and then hands them to me in a large bag. "Have a nice day." I exit the store and walk confidently to the town car. "I'm ready to go to the hotel now."

"Very well..." the driver sighs.

I step out of the car, my Cirilla's bag in hand, and I come around to the back of the car to get my suitcase from the driver. I tip him generously and thank him for his discretion.

"Mr. Scherzer said that your room key will be available at the front desk. Enjoy your stay here." He slams the trunk and quickly gets into the car.

I smirk and begin to pull my suitcase behind me toward the hotel. I step through the doors and walk up to the front desk.

"Welcome! You must be Miss Strong!" The perky woman behind the desk says, flashing a forceful smile.

"Yes, I am..."

"Well, here's your two keys to the two rooms." She hands me two plastic cards.

"Two rooms?" I ask, confused.

"Yes, the one is for Mr. Scherzer's room and the other is for your room. It looks like you will be staying two nights with us."

"Oh," I murmur, trying to hide my embarrassment and rage. "Thank you," I say, clearing my throat.

"You're welcome. If you need anything, just let me know!"

I grip the two keys in my fist as I get on the elevator. I hit the '3' button and exhale through my nose. I decide to stop by Max's room first to... chat with him.

I knock on the door, trying not to bang my fist against it too hard. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?" Max asks, puzzled. It looks like he just got out of the shower--his hair is touseled and damp.

"You have staying in your hotel with your teammates?" I practically yell.

"Okay, calm down. Come in the room so no one hears us..."

I enter the room and let the door slam behind me. "What are you thinking, Max?"

"I just figured it woud be fun--like more scandalous."

"Ugh! I can't believe this. Do you want to get caught? My reputation is on the line here too, you know!"

Max is quiet for a moment, thinking. "I'll pay you triple."

That shuts me up. Triple? I could really use the money. Business is good but not that good. I clear my throat, swallowing my pride. "Fine. I'll stay. But now I'm really going to have to punish you."

The pitcher crosses his arms, smiling. "And I'll be looking forward to that. Now, go get changed. I'll be needing my beating tonight."

"Tonight?" I whine.

"Yes, tonight. Now, go!"

I huff and leave the room to go find mine. I realize that it's just down the hallway and a pit forms in my stomach. I walk passed all the closed doors, knowing that there are Tigers behind them.

I get changed quickly. I put on a black patent leather corset, black frilly boyshort panties (I'm not into that g-string crap), and my knee-high patent leather platform buckle boots. I try to keep my hands from shaking as I put on my classic black cat eye and bright red lipstick. I empty the contents of the Cirilla's bag into a black gym bag I brought, put on a long black trench coat, and then I'm ready.

I peer my head out the door, making sure the coast is clear and then I briskly walk down the hall. I use my key to get into the room and I find Max waiting patiently by the bed, down to his black boxer briefs.

"On the bed--now," I order, taking off my coat. Max flinches at the tone in my voice and then he complies. "Spread 'em."

Max outstretches his arms and legs, pointing toward each of the bed posts. I grab the handcuffs out of my goody bag and cuff him to the bed. I then take the gag ball in my hands and I climb onto the bed. I straddle his waist, running my fingertips along his cheek. I wrap the gag ball around his head, strapping it on. I can feel him grow harder beneath me. I smirk to myself. Perfect.

I get off of Max and stand close to the bed. I pick out the riding crop from my goody bag and take a deep breath. I run the end of the riding crop softly against his thigh and then I quickly pull my hand bag and smack him as hard as I can. His cries are muffled by the gag ball.

"No! No crying!" I hiss, whipping him again. "You've been a very bad boy, Max... now it's time for you to be punished!" Whack. "You're nothing, I tell you--nothing!" Whack. "You're just a small little bug that I can easily squash!" Whack.

Max's brows arched and furrowed with each hit of the whip. The skin along his thigh and abdomen are bright red and he is hard as a rock. Sweat slowly drips down his forehead and temples. The bed creaks as his arms and legs try to pull away from the posts to shield himself. It is a horribly delightful sight--a sight that I live for.

Out of nowhere, I drop the riding crop and I straddle him once more. I lean in close. "You're a small speck of dust in this world, Max. You live in a false reality. There's nothing special about you." I pinch his nipples between my thumbs and index fingers and twist as fast as I can. He groans in pain and pleasure. "You're nothing! Say it! Say that you're nothing!"

"I'm nothing," he chokes out, the gag ball distorting his speech. I squeeze harder. "I'm nothing!" His eyes grow intense and he throws his head back, reaching his climax.

"Good, glad we're on the same page." I maneuver off of the pitcher and I leave him, panting, on the bed, still cuffed. I grab a small baggie and a lighter out of the larger bag, picking a joint out of the bunch. I put it between my teeth and I put my trench coat back on. I open up the sliding door to the balcony and I light it up. I take a long, drawn out drag, keeping the smoke in for as long as possible. I then blow out through my nose.

I finish the joint, flushing the butt so that Max isn't held responsibe. I uncuff him and he rips off the gag ball. "Was this really necessary?" He hold the red ball up.

"It was to make sure you weren't too loud. "You're welcome." I chuckle to myself. "Hey, I never did ask you... how do you explain the bruises to your teammates? It's not like you slide or anything."

"Actually, no one has really asked. I don't really think anyone stares at anyone else when we're in the lockerroom." He laughs softly. "So are you going to stick around or head back to your room?"

"I better leave. Thanks for the offer though." I half smile at him. I gather up my tools in the gym bag and I tighten the waist tie on my trench coat. I look at Max and I lean in to kiss him on the cheek. I don't say anything as I leave. I look to my left toward my room, still smiling to myself.

"Um, can I help you?" A deep voice asks from my right.

I freeze. Oh shit! I slowly turn to face the man and I'm surprised to find Alex Avila, wearing blue pajamas pants and a white T-shirt, standing in front of me. I clear my throat. "Um... I'm just a friend of Max's. I was just visiting him..."

Alex looks me up and down, noting my boots. "Uh-huh..."

"...he got me a hotel room in your block."

"Which way is your room?"

I point behind me. "That way..."

"Good. The ice machine is down that way. I'll walk you to your room." He smiles.

I then realize that he is holding an ice bucket. "Oh... okay..." I smile a little bit.

He begins to walk past me and I follow him. I'm almost as tall as him in my five-inch boots. "I'm Alex, by the way."

"Elizabeth..." I hold out my hand and Alex shakes it.

"Can I ask you a question?"

My blood runs cold. "Uh, sure?"

"How do you walk in those boots?!" Alex's gaze is glued to the shiny leather.

I exhale, relieved. "Oh, you know, practice..."

The rest of the walk down the hallway is silent. We take turns glancing at each other. We reach the ice machine and Alex puts the bucket in place and presses the button. I stand there patiently, desperately wanting to get to my room.

The ice stops dispensing and Alex eyes me carefully. "You're not a prostitute, are you?"

My eyes grow wide. "What? No! God, no!"

Alex then grows red, realizing that his question was completely uncalled for. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you! I just thought because of the boots and the fact that you were coming out of his room in the middle of the night..."

"No, it's fine. I totally understand where you got that from. I kind of do look like a hooker."

Alex's lips fold into a tight line and there is a moment of silence. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"Alex, it's okay. Listen, I've got to go. But I'll probably see you around?"

The catcher doesn't say anything at first. "Yup," he croaks, still clearly embarrassed.

I stroll across the hall and slide my key into the lock. I open the door slightly and then turn around and wave at Alex.


	3. A Catalyst

I enter the gym down on the first floor and I am pleased to see that it is empty. I tend to come a little later than most people. But that's because I enjoy sleeping in. I spot a treadmill across the room and I make my way over to it. I put my water bottle in the compartment and turn on my MP3 player, picking out my workout mix (an array of angry and intense Nine Inch Nails songs to get me pumped). I slide the small electronic device into my arm sleeve and I hop on the treadmill.

I am normally not one for just running aimlessly, but it's really all I have. I normally do Billy Blanks' Tae Bo workout DVD's, but I don't have enough space in my hotel room. So, treadmill it is.

As my feet hit against the exercise machine and sweat begins to bead at my hairline, my mind wanders to my most tenacious client. I think about how I kissed him on the cheek. I definitely regret that. Max is a sweet guy and I really appreciate that, but I have a persona when I'm with a client. I'm not supposed to show compassion. I definitely won't be doing that again; don't want Max getting any ideas.

A surprising person then pops into my head--Alex Avila. Man, do I feel awkward about that. He could have easily caught Max and I. I wonder if he heard any of the whipping or Max's cries. God, that would be so embarrassing for Max and unfortunate for me. I would probably lose my best client.

The timer goes off on the treadmill and it slowly comes to a stop. I step off and go to the open space to my left. I sit down and begin stretching. Sit-ups and push-ups next.

But, I mean, Alex is really cute. I would be curious to find out if he was a dom or sub. People who are against BDSM preach about how what we do is a sin and it's sick and twisted. But what they don't realize is that everyone is either a dom or sub. It's rarely equal ground in the bedroom. There can be only one leader and then follower(s).

Now that I think about it, Alex probably did hear us and, thinking it was just "normal" sex, and came to the idea that I'm a prostitute. I don't really blame him. A mysterious woman exiting his room in the middle of the night? Just call me a woman of the night! I wonder if he actually believed me when I told him that I was just a friend...

I stand up and walk over to the stack of towels. I wipe my face off and take one ear bud out. Taking a swig of water, I leave the exercise room. All the Tigers have left for their day game with the Indians so I can just waltz up to my room and not worry about any of them seeing me.

I take a long shower in my room and then, after putting curling spray in my hair and brushing it out, I put on a black bra and panties. A fluffy white robe, courtesy of the hotel, goes on after that.

I turn on the television and begin to search through the channels; nothing good. I land on the baseball game and I sit for a moment. I never really got into baseball, or any other professional sport.

After not finding anything interesting on TV, I decide to bust out my laptop. I do the usual: check my e-mail, Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, Reddit, and some BDSM community message boards that I subscribe to. I get bored so I pull out my my handy-dandy vibrator. Masturbating when I'm bored is a common occurrence in my life. It may seem sad but it's just how I live.

As I pack away my sex toy, I hear a knock at the door. I inhale a shaky breath, still overcome by my recent orgasm. I tidy up my robe and I padded to the door. I cleared my throat and opened it, praying it's Max.

"Hey," he says.

My prayers are answered! "Hey, how was the game?"

"We won!" Max seems frenzied and like he is in a hurry.

"Great job! That means you won the series, right?"

"Yes! Um, but, I have something I need to tell you..."

I turn my head slightly, eyeing him carefully. "Go on..."

"Um, you and me and some of the other guys are going out to dinner tonight..." He winces, already predicting my reaction.

"What?" I hiss. "How? How do they know about--wait, did Alex suggest I come?"

"Um, yes, actually. He told me about you meeting him the other night and since you told him that you're my friend, he wanted me to invite you." Max smiles.

I cross my arms. "Did he also tell you that he asked me if I was a prostitute? Did he mention that he thinks we're fucking?"

"He doesn't think we're fucking," Max brushes off.

"Yeah, he does--he totally does. Why else would he ask me if I was a prostitute? He probably heard us the other night."

Max freezes for a moment, seriously considering the though. He then snaps out of it. "No, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're going to dinner with some of the guys and me at a nice restaurant. Now, get ready!"

Before I can protest, he walks down the hallway and into his own room. i let out a soft groan of frustration and then recede back into my hotel room. "Nice?" How vague is that, but I try my best. Luckily, my hair was already done so I adorn a black fit-and-flare dress with red roses, black heels with red tips, and ruby earrings and necklace. I then apply a charcoal smokey with a hint of purple and light pink lipstick.

"Ready?" Max asks, standing in the hallway.

"Let's get this over with..." I grumble.

"That's the spirit!" The pitcher laughs.

I hook my arm with his and note the other players in the hallway: Torii Hunter, Ian Kinsler, Rajai Davis, and of course... Alex Avila. "This is all who's coming?" I ask, surprised.

"Yup; everyone kind of breaks up into groups sometimes depending on where people want to go to celebrate," Max answers.

"I guess without me, this would be a sausage fest, eh?" I smile humorously.

"If you want to look at it that way, be my guest." He turns his head. "Guys, I want you all to meet my friend, Elizabeth. She's been staying at the hotel in our block."

We all exchange hello's and other greetings. I can feel their eyes on me as we walk toward the elevator. Never have I felt so exposed--even with what I do for a living. I just keep to myself all the way to the restaurant because that is when the real shit begins.

The six of us are seated at a large table with a burgundy table cloth and small candles flickering before us. I'm sitting in between Max and Alex (oh, joy!). The waitress comes over and the men order champagne--"Keep the botte at the table."

We order our food and then the men immediately burst into chatter about their successful series against the Indians. I try to pay attention to it but it all really goes over my head so I just sit there quietly. A few minutes pass and I realize one Tiger has left the conversation... Alex Avila. I turn my head slightly and I smile at him.

"So..." Alex begins, obviously trying to break the awkwardness. "Where do you live?"

"Detroit," I say a little bit too fast. "But I'm from Grand Rapids."

"Ah, interesting. What brought you to Detroit?"

And then it begins: I start lying through my teeth. I tell him that I'm going to Mercy to become a physician's assistant and that I work at small floral shop. I explain to him how my family is loaded and that's why I can afford my apartment downtown. The lies flow out of my mouth with ease--I'm used to this. I really don't even bother asking him questions; he just naturally shares information with me.

Alex is nice--nicer than most of the guys I come into contact with. He has soft, kind eyes and an extremely pleasant smile. I realize now how attractive he really is as he nods and makes comments. I have such a thing for facial hair and thick eyebrows. Intimate thoughts creep into my head--a symptom of having an obsession with sex. I start to imagine kissing Alex, embracing him with great intensity. I picture myself feeling on his crotch, unzipping his pants, and...

"Elizabeth?"

"W-what?" I snap out of my day dream, blinking, and turn toward Max.

"We're leaving now," he chuckles.

I then notice all the other Tigers are standing around, waiting for me. I blush slightly and stand. "Right..." I mumble.

I'm quiet on the ride back to the hotel. I'm extremely embarrassed. Normally I have more self-control for my wandering my mind. Maybe it was just the stress of the day. Max is a handful to begin but four other Tigers? That's just asking for trouble.

Just as I slide the key into the lock and open the door to my hotel room, Alex comes up to me. Before I he can say anything, I blurt out, "I had a really nice time tonight."

Alex looks somewhat surprised. "Yeah, me too." He pauses for a moment. "So will I see you around at Comerica Park?"

"Oh, no, I don't like baseball," I say with nonchalance.

The catcher's jaw drops but then he catches it. "How are you friends with Max Scherzer and you don't like baseball?"

"I don't know. I just never got really into it." I shrug.

"I'll have to change that!" He laughs awkwardly, like he regretted saying that. "Well, since I won't see you at any of the games, could we exchange phone numbers? You know, to keep in touch... since we had such a great time tonight."

My eyes widen, shocked that Alex Avila actually asked for my number. I've been known to be extremely intimidating, but I guess he hasn't seen me in my corset with a riding crop in my hand. I really shouldn't but I want to so badly. Max would probably kill me for fear that his secret pasttime with be brought out of the shadows.

"Sure," I say firmly. I pull my phone out of my purse and open up a New Contact, handing it to the major leaguer. He does the same for me. "Well, I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, definitely!" Alex waves a little and then retreats back to his own room.


	4. An Exclusive Deal

It feels amazing to be back in Detroit; back in my own apartment; my beautiful king size bed. That trip to Cleveland was definitely the most interesting one I have ever taken. Damn that Max Scherzer! He has a knack for getting me into trouble.

Just as I sit down on my couch to hop on my computer to check my work e-mail, my phone vibrates. I check the I.D. and... speak of the devil!

Hey, can you come over?

I shake my head, smirking. Sure. What do you want this time?

Bring your punisher stuff--especially the paddle.

Ooh, role play; this is a special occassion. I'll be over soon.

I jump up from my couch and head for my bedroom. I change out of my sweats and into black skinny pants, a black V-neck, leather ankle booties, and my classic leather jacket. I walk over to my wardrobe--a beautiful mahogany piece that contains my whips, paddles and other accessories. I pick up my two paddles of two different sizes. My gaze switches back and forth between the two and I decide to go with the bigger one. I grab my black gym bag and fit it with other goodies, including my "costume" for this occasion.

I throw my bag in the passenger seat of my bright blue 1964 Cadillac Eldorado and start the car up. I have the route to Max's house memorized--we have a lot of our meetings there since it's quiet and discrete. I drive there in silence.

"Did you bring it?" Max asks, eager and ready to go, when he opens the door.

"Of course I did. You're the one who's paying me. Outside the bedroom, you're the boss. And inside--" I grab Max's chin, "I am."

Max's eyes widen. I never know which one to look into. But they are a sight to see when he climaxes; bright, piercing blue and deep, calming brown. Hot damn.

"Let's get to it then..." Max gestures for me to lead the way. He follows me through the house and to his bedroom. "You can change in the bathroom..."

I take the bag in my hand by the handles and step over to the en suite. I notice the double sinks, the two shower heads. It makes my heart sink a little. Max may be paying me to beat him but I actually do care about him. I hope that he can find his own woman soon.

I exit the bathroom in full costume--a black push-up bra, a black blazer, a black pencil skirt with a slit that goes all the way up, black stilettos, and, as a finishing touch, thick-framed glasses. There really isn't a specific title for this ensemble, but we just roll with it.

I walk around to the other side of the bed, where Max is standing. He stares at me, drinking in my appearance. I smirk as I notice a twitch in my left hand. He's ready. I grab the paddle from my bag and tap it expectantly against my free hand as I stroll back over to Max.

"On all fours," I bellow. Max flinches at my sudden outburst, but quickly follows orders. "Remove your boxer briefs." He does so. "Any last words?" I smirk and raise the paddle.

"I'm a bad boy..." Max says quietly, excitement rattling his voice, "...and I need to be punished."

Something grows inside me--an overwhelming feeling of power and lust. This is what I live for. I need this to stay sane, even though it seems insane. And in this moment, I flash back to that moment when I was five years old--holding my best friend's hand on her little princess bed as her dad stood before us, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants...

"Elizabeth?" Max whispers, turning his head to look at me.

I snap out of the flashback, blinking a few times. I clear my throat and my mind. "Who's your master?" Whack!

Max winces in pain and shock. "You are!" He yells.

I can still see in his eyes that he's worried about me but I ignore him. "I can't hear you!" Whack! Whack!

"You are! You are my master!" Max's fingertips dig into the carpet.

"Who is nothing?" Whack!

"I am!" At this point, Max grabs ahold of himself and begins to slowly pump his hand on his member.

I continue to hit him with the paddle and he continues to pleasure himself. I try my best to keep the thoughts of my past away but they linger in the back of my head. I don't even realize that Max is begging me to stop.

"Elizabeth! Stop!"

"What?" My arm goes limp and I drop the paddle. I run my hand through my thick black curls, pick up the paddle and walk over to my bag.

"Elizabeth? Are you okay?" Max walks over and puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Yes! I'm fine! I'm just having... an off day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No! Just... get dressed... please." I feel Max leave my side. I zip up my bag and turn, face flushed. "Listen, you don't have to pay me for today... that was really unprofessional."

"On the contrary, I have an offer for you." My head tilts and my brows furrow. Max walks over to me to the point where our faces are other a few inches apart. "I would like an exclusive deal."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I want to be your only client--"

"--No way! I can't afford that!"

"I'll pay you as much as you're making now. It would only be for the rest of the season."

I think about it for a moment. Max is my favorite client and I would get to travel, as risky as it is. "I'll do it!" I chirp, not really thinking it through.

"Perfect! We can set up a date to draw up a contract next week." Max smiles that stupid, goofy grin of his. My phone buzzes and I pick it up. "Who is it?"

"It's Alex..."

"What does he want?" Max asks, his tone slightly changing.

"He wants to have dinner tonight!" I smile brightly. I haven't been asked out on a real date in what seems like forever.

"Really?" Max's head tilts to the side. "Are you going to go?"

"Of course!" I exclaim, my demeanor immediately changing. "I had a really nice time with him when we went out to dinner in Cleveland!" I look at my phone again to check the time. "Oh! I better get changed and go!" I run to the bathroom and I peel off my sexy punisher costume and change back into my normal outfit. I exit the bathroom and grab the money out of Max's hand. "Thanks for everything, Max." I smile at him.

He smiles back. "You're welcome," he whispers. Max clears his throat and pats me on the arm. "You better go..."

I smile wider and then walk out of the bedroom. On the ride back to my apartment, I try to put together the best outfit I can for this occasion. I burst through my apartment door and run to my bedroom. I don't even bother putting all my tools and costume away--I just get straight to my date. With shaking hands, I get changed into black jeans, a black sleeveless chiffon top with a studded collar, heeled leather booties and a studded leather crossbody bag. Silver hoop earrings, a silver cross necklace and a silver smoky eye complete the look.

Alex texts me an address and then I'm out the door. I plug the address into the GPS on my phone once I get into my car. My heart is pounding so hard that I can hear it in my ears. I am so nervous. My phone announces that I have arrived at my destination--a house. His house? What is going on here..?

"Elizabeth!" Alex exclaims when he opens the door.

"Hey, Alex," I say quietly.

"Come in, come in!" Alex moves out of the way and gestures for me to enter his house. I walk in hesitantly. "You can head to the kitchen. It's right down the hallway on your left."

I smile and continue through the house. Several seconds later, I come to an open concept living room, kitchen and dining area. The kitchen is absolutely beautiful--state-of-the-art appliances, gorgeous stone countertops and then I notice bags of food on the island.

"You okay? You look kind of uneasy there..." Alex says, biting his lip a little bit.

"No, no, it's just... I was expecting us to be eating at a... restaurant." I clear my throat and brush some curls out of my face.

"Oh. I was just thinking that since it's my day off, it would nicer and easier if we stayed away from restaurants." Alex pauses. "But I mean, we could go if you want..."

"No! It's fine! We can eat here. You already got dinner. It's... fine." I smile confidently at him.

"Okay!" Alex returns the smile. "Well, you can sit at the table--"

"--Nope! I want to be of help!" The response comes out quick and awkward. I feel a pit form in my stomach.

"Alright, then you can set the table."

Alex shows me where the plates, glasses, and silverware are located. I set two place settings while Alex prepares the food. He got Greek--one of my favorites. I try my best to eat "like a lady" but I am starving. Work always makes me hungry, oddly enough. Alex and I continue our conversation from dinner the other night--fake work, fake life, fake everything, but real family and real (limited) interests. I feel like things are going really well.

"Oh! I have something for you!" Alex jumps up from his seat and goes down another hallway.

I wait patiently for a few moments until Alex emerges into the room once more. He hands me a DVD and my stomach twists with anxiety. What is this? "What is it?" I ask, getting a little nervous. What if Alex is really some kind of creep?

Alex walks back around to his side of the table and picks up our plates. "Well, you said you didn't like baseball and I thought I'd change that. It's a recording of one of our games. I thought we could watch it and I could teach the rules and aspects of the game. Well... only if you want to."

I try to hide a smile. His nerd is showing. But it's a different kind of nerd--baseball nerd. I think about it a minute. We have been having such a nice time and I'm sure we'll have more dates like this one. "Sure, Alex, I would love to."


	5. A Day at the Ballpark

I am actually going to a Tigers game today and I am more nervous than I ever have been in my entire life. Not only do I have to be around both Alex and Max at the same time but I also have to be around all the significant others of the Tigers. They got us box seats.

As I try to keep calm, I get dressed. I was able to find a black Tigers tee and I pair it with my classic black skinny pants and black TOMS. I put on a simple cat eye with gold eye shadow and my jewelry consists of a silver cross and silver English D earrings. Red-orange lipstick finishes the look.

I arrive at the ballpark and I'm whisked away by security to the box seats. My heart is pounding in my chest so loud that I can hear it in my ears. All the Tigers significant others are busy talking to each other and I stand there awkwardly until two blonde women spot me. I recognize one of them--Kate Upton. I feel my blood run cold. She's the definition of sexy.

"Hey, you must be Elizabeth..." Kate says. I nod. "Well I'm Kate and this is Ashley, Bryan Holaday's wife." She smiles, gesturing to the other blonde woman.

"Hello," I say with a weak smile.

"So you're here for Alex, right?" Ashley asks.

"Yes, I am. Although, I'm also friends with Max."

"Oh, yeah, that's right! You met the guys in Cleveland."

I silently gulp at the thought of that trip. "Yeah--"

"--we should take our seats," Kate interrupts, saving me. "Come sit between Ashley and me, Elizabeth."

I follow them, summoning looks from the other wives, girlfriends and fiancés. I normally don't feel this self-conscious--I'm a very confident person but I'm out of the element right now. I slide into my seat and fold my hands on my lap. Not a few seconds later, I realize that we are doing the National Anthem so I quickly assume the position and then quietly sit back down.

"So, Elizabeth," Kate says, turning toward me. "How long have you been dating Alex?"

"I don't know if you could call it 'dating'. We've only had one date since I don't count the dinner in Cleveland." I smirk.

"Oh... well, he's a really great guy!" Kate adds.

"How do you know Max?" Ashley asks. She tilts her head slightly.

They are asking a lot of questions--but they're supposed to be easy to answer, right? "Um, I work at a floral shop and he came in one day and we just started talking!"

"Ooh, so did you two ever have a thing?" Kate questions, her voice hushed.

"Oh, God, no!" I say it louder and more exaggerated than I was planning. I quickly clear my throat and hunch my shoulders, hoping no one noticed me. I decide to change the subject. "Yeah, I only started watching baseball like a week ago. Alex recorded a game for the two of us to watch and he taught me all the rules and such."

"Really?" Ashley almost exclaims.

"Aw, that's so cute!" Kate smiles brightly, putting her hand on my arm.

Ashley laughs lightly. "So what do you think of it?"

"It's pretty good. I've never been much into sports but this I can definitely learn to like it." I nod assuredly.

"You might not want to say that too loud," Kate murmurs.

I actually enjoy my time with Ashley, Kate and the rest of the Tigers Wives. Everyone is really nice. I have to admit though, being at a baseball game can be a bit overwhelming in general. I mean, the game ended and I didn’t even know the score. I was too busy talking to the other women and absorbing the scenery.

The Tigers beat the Minnesota Twins and all decided to hang around until the guys were finished with their interviews and such. We get a cart delivered to us with tons of food and drinks on it. We eat, talk, and continue our fun until the guys are ready to exit the locker room.

The Tigers shuffle through the doors and, like magnets, pull toward their significant other. I watch the sight impatiently, wanting to hug Alex and congratulate him on the win. Alex comes out and walks over to me. We wrap our arms around each other and squeeze tightly.

“So what did you think?” Alex asks, suppressing a smile.

“That was awesome! I love it here!” I grin from ear to ear and pull him in for another hug. I notice Max come out of the locker room, his eyes fixed on me. It makes me uncomfortable and I slowly pull away from Alex. “Can we go now?”

“Yeah, we can…” There is confusion in Alex’s tone.

I take Alex’s hand and lead him out of the room. Realizing I have no idea where I’m going, I let the catcher take the lead. Both of us are tired so we travel in silence.

We reach the exit and Alex stops. “So what do you want to do?”

I think about it for a moment. I’m not hungry but I can imagine Alex is ravenous. “Want to come back to my place? I’ll cook dinner for you.”

Alex smiles. “Sure, that sounds great.”

I quick text him my address and then we part our ways to get to our cars. I enjoy my lonely ride back to my apartment. I’ve always been fond of solitude when driving. I think about what I’m going to make for Alex. I rack my brain for the ingredients that sit in my fridge. Alex and I meet up after we park our cars. He takes my hand in his and we journey up the apartment building.

“Nice place,” Alex comments, taking his shoes off by the door.

“Thanks,” I chirp, making my way toward the kitchen. I open up my fridge and freezer. I search, trying to figure something that I can make. I pull out vegetables from the fridge and precooked grilled chicken from the freezer. “Is stir fry okay?”

Alex stops and turns around. He was snooping around my bookshelf near my bedroom. “Uh, sure, that’s fine.” He smiles innocently.

I grab instant rice from my cabinet and start boiling the water. Alex sits in a chair up at the island across from me. He watched as I chop up the vegetables, the only sound is the knife hitting the cutting board. I glance up at him, his eyes fixed on my hands. I smile humorously. Alex’s travel up to meet mine and then he smiles.

“Like what you see?” I ask.

“That’s some impressive knife action you have there.” He gestures with his finger.

Small talk ensues as I continue dinner. This time it is Alex’s turn to set the table. I plate the stir fry and we sit down at the island. I fold my napkin in my lap and I place my hand on the granite. Alex takes it and we both bow our heads, praying and thanking God for our meal.

“So what it’s like?” I ask as we dig into our food.

“What do you mean?”

“Being out on the field, catching,” I explain.

“That’s kind of a… vague question.” Alex picks up his napkin and wipes his mouth. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s just my job, but the best job in the world.” I smile dreamily at him. “What about you? What’s it like to work at a floral shop?”

The question catches me off guard. I forgot for a moment about the lies and I suddenly feel guilty. “Oh, um, it’s okay, I guess. It’s not the greatest job in the world but I enjoy it.” I shrug.

“What made you decide to go into flowers?”

“Well, I minored in biology and I have always found the growth and production of flowers to be extremely fascinating. It amazes me. It’s something so simple but so brilliant at the same time. It’s one of God’s gifts to the world and most people don’t even realize it.” I stare into Alex’s eyes.

Alex takes my hand once more and squeezes it. “That was really deep,” he chuckles.

I laugh loudly. “Yeah, I wasn’t planning on that but it kind of took off.”

“But anyway, how was it with the other women today?”

“It was great! Totally awesome! Kate and Ashley are so nice. I had a blast.”

“That’s fantastic! I knew you would fit in.”

If only you knew… I murmur in the back of my head.

We continue to eat our dinner with occasional chit-chat in between bites. Once again, I find myself really enjoying Alex’s company. But it’s not like I wasn’t expecting that. He’s a very pleasant person to be around and he makes me laugh.

We finish our dinner and clear our plates. I wash the dishes and Alex dries and puts them away. Alex and I then make our way to my couch. I turn on Netflix and as we flip through the different movies and TV shows. I eventually curl up against Alex while he wraps his arm around me. I’ve never gotten this close to someone this fast before. We decide to watch The Office. I laugh like a total dork like I always do and I blush but Alex only squeezes me tighter as he laughs. His large, tough hands send goose bumps through my body.

It’s getting late so Alex and I agree it would be best for him to leave since he has a game tomorrow. I exit out of Netflix and we stand simultaneously. I walk him to the door and he opens it. He turns around to face me.

“I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Me too,” I say with a girlish smile.

Alex looks away and stands awkwardly. I crane my neck up and kiss Alex on the cheek. I want to do more. Oh God, what I wouldn’t give to kiss him so deeply right now and throw him on my bed. But I just keep to a simple kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Alex.”

“Goodnight, Elizabeth.”


	6. A Family Affair

I wake up and briskly walk to my bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and looking up at myself in the mirror. I’m visiting Grand Rapids today. I’m going to see my family. I have not seen them since Christmas. That’s right—I missed my mom’s, my dad’s, and my birthday with them. I have become fantastic at making up excuses. But this time, I actually kind of want to go. I need some motherly advice.

I dry my face and proceed to get ready. I pick out a simple black three-quarter-length sleeve dress with intricate black tights and black booties. I shower quickly and then get dressed. I move from my makeup to my jewelry—gold-toned today with a gold hoop in my left nostril.

I decide to just drink a glass of milk for breakfast as I down my Prevacid. I put on my Urban Decay lipstick in the shade Obsessed and then I’m out the door. I decided to rent a car to take to GR so I could have the GPS and stuff already built into it. I plug in my once-home address and then shove a mix CD into the player.

It takes me about two and a half hours to arrive in Kentwood (the suburb I grew up in). Traffic was light; probably because it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday. I sing along to the music that booms out of the subwoofers in the back of the rental. My arms and hand shake against the steering wheel—a representation of my anxiety.

I pull into my parents’ driveway and do my exiting-the-car routine. I look at myself in the rearview mirror and adjust my nose ring. I’m ready. I get out of the car and walk up the driveway, my clunky booties clacking against the cement. I knock on the door and patiently wait.

“Elizabeth!” My mom exclaims joyfully. She wraps her arms around me.

“Hi, Mom,” I mumble, patting her back awkwardly.

“Well, come inside; come inside!” She steps back into the house and I follow her.

The interior of the house looks exactly the same, which some minor paint differences. I notice my dad sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs. “Hey, Dad!”

“Hi, Elizabeth,” he replies solemnly. He barely looks up at me.

I decide to give him some space and sit on the loveseat next to the couch.

“Actually,” my mom says matter-of-factly, “we’re meeting your sister for lunch. We’ve got to leave right now.”

“Oh!” I immediately stand. “Dad, are you coming with us?”

“Your dad isn’t feeling well, Elizabeth. He’s just going to stay here.” My mom has an annoyed look on her face

My heart breaks a little. They obviously were fighting about me earlier—they always do. My dad can’t stand the sight of me, nor can he stand what I do for a living. He either doesn’t care or he cares too much. I don’t know. That’s what my mom said the last time I talked to her.

“Alright, let’s go then. Hope you feel better, Dad.” I follow my mom out the door.

“Ugh! How can you stand walking in those shoes?” My mom asks with disgust.

“Practice…” Then the memory of Alex asking me that exact same question floods my mind and I can’t help but smile to myself.

On the way to the restaurant, we drive by my old high school. Ah, my days as a Falcon… so fucked up. I liked high school most of the days I went there, but sometimes, it was extremely overwhelming. But I made it through and that’s all that matters. I’m guessing my teachers would think I’m off being a doctor or lawyer or something like that due my great people skills, debating performance and my 3.87 GPA. But nope, I smack guys with paddle and twist their nipples for a living.

My mom and I enter the steakhouse and we spot my sister sitting across the room. I smile and wave and then make my way over. The waitress gives us waters and then we can talk.

“It’s so good to see you, Renee! How have things been?” I pick up my menu and begin looking at all food.

“Oh, you know, same ol’, same ol’. Jeff and I have been taking things slow, but that’s what I need. How have things been with you?” She takes a sip of her water.

“Good—things have been great.” I smile brightly.

“Elizabeth, you have been smiling nonstop since you go into Kentwood! What’s up?” My mom asks somewhat forcefully.

I put down my menu and sigh contently. “Well… I’ve been seeing someone.”

“What?” My mom and sister say in unison. They then come at me with all these questions.

“Whoa! One at a time!”

“I get to go first since I’m your mother! Where did you… meet him?” Her face scrunches up a little bit.

“He’s not a client, Mom. Don’t worry.” She lets out a sigh of relief. “I met him through a client.”

Her face turns pink. “What—“

“—Nope! My turn!” Renee snaps. “What’s his name?”

“Alex...”

“What does he do for a living?” My sister questions.

“Um… baseball.”

“Ooh, like minor league?” Renee’s eyes are lit up with curiosity.

I pick up my water to take a sip, feeling warm all of a sudden. I shake my head and whisper, “No.”

“Then what—“ Her face freeze. “No! No fucking way! You didn’t!” My sister is going ballistic.

“Shh,” I whisper. “People could hear you.”

“Show me proof!”

“Alright…” I pull out my phone and go to my Photo Gallery. “That’s me with Kate Upton and Brayan Holaday’s wife, Ashley.”

“Shut the fuck up! You met Kate Upton?”

“Yeah, she’s really cool.” I smile.

“Damn, you’re living the life! Maybe I should start sleeping with a professional baseball player…” Renee takes another sip of water.

The waitress comes over to take our order. I haven’t even really look at the menu yet. So I just order a steak, medium-rare with mashed potatoes and a house salad. My sister orders the same and my mom orders a salad.

Once she’s gone, I turn to my sister. “No one ever said anything about sleeping together.”

Renee gives me a flat look. “C’mon, Elizabeth. I know what you do for a living. I know you have.” I look at her blankly. “Oh my God, you haven’t!

I turn to my mom, wanting to change the subject. “You’re quiet, Mom. Don’t you have any questions?”

My mom sighs. Here it comes. “Elizabeth, why do you always dress in all black? I mean, it always looks like you’re going to a funeral! And you know I hate nose rings!” Before I can answer, she gets up. “I’m going to the restroom.”

I sigh and look to Renee who is fuming. “So what else do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you haven’t slept him yet!”

I look down and play with the napkin in my lap. “I don’t know. I guess I just want to take things slow? I mean, we’ve fooled around a bit but nothing past second base.” I laugh to myself at the pun.

“Hmm, I get that. You want it to last and you want mutual respect. I’m proud of you, Elizabeth.” She smiles compassionately. “Wait a second!”

Oh shit. “What?”

“One more question… You said that you met him through a client. Who is the client?” She eyes me carefully.

“Renee, you know I can’t tell you that! It’s confidential! I could lose business if word got out I told people!”

“Just tell me: is it a player or a staff member?” Renee’s voice is hushed.

I lower my voice to match hers. “I’m not telling you.”

“Dammit!” She puts her index finger to her chin. “Hmm, someone in the Tigers Clubhouse is into the kinky shit. That’s very, very interesting. Wait a second!”

“Ugh, what now?” I groan, rolling my eyes.

“If you’re seeing Alex Avila… does that mean you’re not working anymore? I mean, how does he feel about your job? Is he into that?”

Shit, I was hoping she wasn’t going to ask. “Well… I am still working and… Alex doesn’t know what I do for a living. And I don’t know if he a sub or dom or whatever!” I bite my lip. I see my mom coming back. “Please don’t tell her!”

“Only if you tell me who you’re servicing on the Tigers.”

I look at my mom and then my sister. “Max Scherzer,” I whisper.

Renee starts to gasp but then she stops herself. I can tell she’s about to burst from the new knowledge. My mom takes her seat and she looks at us suspiciously. Our food comes and we dine with little small talk and awkward glances. We finish our meal and my mom goes for her wallet.  
“No, Mom, I’ll pay.” I grab my purse.

“I’m your mother. I’m paying.”

“Come on, Mom. I just got a bonus. You’ve paid for enough.”

“Oh, like the education that you flushed down the drain?” Her eyes turn dark. “Fine! Pay! I don’t care. I’ll be in the car.” She gets up and leaves.

I sigh and put my debit card on the platter with my receipt. I feel like I was just stabbed with a knife. This is why I don’t come home—too many judgments!

“Don’t listen to her. But listen, if you do really care about Alex and you want to make it work, I would tell him the truth. He obviously won’t be happy about it and I don’t know him but I think you guys can work through it. Oh, and give him some please. If you guys are fooling around, he’s probably going home and doing it himself. Don’t do that to him.” She smiles humorously and then gets up to leave, throwing her purse over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Elizabeth. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah, definitely!”

“Because… I believe you owe me some more details.” She waves and then walks over to the exit.

I sit there for a few minutes, absorbing what just happened. I’m caught in so many lies. My life is a lie. Well, at least my love life is. What am I doing? I pick up my phone and text Alex:

Hey, when is the next time I can see you? I need to tell you something.


	7. A Family Affair

I wake up and briskly walk to my bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and looking up at myself in the mirror. I’m visiting Grand Rapids today. I’m going to see my family. I have not seen them since Christmas. That’s right—I missed my mom’s, my dad’s, and my birthday with them. I have become fantastic at making up excuses. But this time, I actually kind of want to go. I need some motherly advice.

I dry my face and proceed to get ready. I pick out a simple black three-quarter-length sleeve dress with intricate black tights and black booties. I shower quickly and then get dressed. I move from my makeup to my jewelry—gold-toned today with a gold hoop in my left nostril.

I decide to just drink a glass of milk for breakfast as I down my Prevacid. I put on my Urban Decay lipstick in the shade Obsessed and then I’m out the door. I decided to rent a car to take to GR so I could have the GPS and stuff already built into it. I plug in my once-home address and then shove a mix CD into the player.

It takes me about two and a half hours to arrive in Kentwood (the suburb I grew up in). Traffic was light; probably because it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday. I sing along to the music that booms out of the subwoofers in the back of the rental. My arms and hand shake against the steering wheel—a representation of my anxiety.

I pull into my parents’ driveway and do my exiting-the-car routine. I look at myself in the rearview mirror and adjust my nose ring. I’m ready. I get out of the car and walk up the driveway, my clunky booties clacking against the cement. I knock on the door and patiently wait.

“Elizabeth!” My mom exclaims joyfully. She wraps her arms around me.

“Hi, Mom,” I mumble, patting her back awkwardly.

“Well, come inside; come inside!” She steps back into the house and I follow her.

The interior of the house looks exactly the same, which some minor paint differences. I notice my dad sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs. “Hey, Dad!”

“Hi, Elizabeth,” he replies solemnly. He barely looks up at me.

I decide to give him some space and sit on the loveseat next to the couch.

“Actually,” my mom says matter-of-factly, “we’re meeting your sister for lunch. We’ve got to leave right now.”

“Oh!” I immediately stand. “Dad, are you coming with us?”

“Your dad isn’t feeling well, Elizabeth. He’s just going to stay here.” My mom has an annoyed look on her face

My heart breaks a little. They obviously were fighting about me earlier—they always do. My dad can’t stand the sight of me, nor can he stand what I do for a living. He either doesn’t care or he cares too much. I don’t know. That’s what my mom said the last time I talked to her.

“Alright, let’s go then. Hope you feel better, Dad.” I follow my mom out the door.

“Ugh! How can you stand walking in those shoes?” My mom asks with disgust.

“Practice…” Then the memory of Alex asking me that exact same question floods my mind and I can’t help but smile to myself.

On the way to the restaurant, we drive by my old high school. Ah, my days as a Falcon… so fucked up. I liked high school most of the days I went there, but sometimes, it was extremely overwhelming. But I made it through and that’s all that matters. I’m guessing my teachers would think I’m off being a doctor or lawyer or something like that due my great people skills, debating performance and my 3.87 GPA. But nope, I smack guys with paddle and twist their nipples for a living.

My mom and I enter the steakhouse and we spot my sister sitting across the room. I smile and wave and then make my way over. The waitress gives us waters and then we can talk.

“It’s so good to see you, Renee! How have things been?” I pick up my menu and begin looking at all food.

“Oh, you know, same ol’, same ol’. Jeff and I have been taking things slow, but that’s what I need. How have things been with you?” She takes a sip of her water.

“Good—things have been great.” I smile brightly.

“Elizabeth, you have been smiling nonstop since you go into Kentwood! What’s up?” My mom asks somewhat forcefully.

I put down my menu and sigh contently. “Well… I’ve been seeing someone.”

“What?” My mom and sister say in unison. They then come at me with all these questions.

“Whoa! One at a time!”

“I get to go first since I’m your mother! Where did you… meet him?” Her face scrunches up a little bit.

“He’s not a client, Mom. Don’t worry.” She lets out a sigh of relief. “I met him through a client.”

Her face turns pink. “What—“

“—Nope! My turn!” Renee snaps. “What’s his name?”

“Alex...”

“What does he do for a living?” My sister questions.

“Um… baseball.”

“Ooh, like minor league?” Renee’s eyes are lit up with curiosity.

I pick up my water to take a sip, feeling warm all of a sudden. I shake my head and whisper, “No.”

“Then what—“ Her face freeze. “No! No fucking way! You didn’t!” My sister is going ballistic.

“Shh,” I whisper. “People could hear you.”

“Show me proof!”

“Alright…” I pull out my phone and go to my Photo Gallery. “That’s me with Kate Upton and Brayan Holaday’s wife, Ashley.”

“Shut the fuck up! You met Kate Upton?”

“Yeah, she’s really cool.” I smile.

“Damn, you’re living the life! Maybe I should start sleeping with a professional baseball player…” Renee takes another sip of water.

The waitress comes over to take our order. I haven’t even really look at the menu yet. So I just order a steak, medium-rare with mashed potatoes and a house salad. My sister orders the same and my mom orders a salad.

Once she’s gone, I turn to my sister. “No one ever said anything about sleeping together.”

Renee gives me a flat look. “C’mon, Elizabeth. I know what you do for a living. I know you have.” I look at her blankly. “Oh my God, you haven’t!

I turn to my mom, wanting to change the subject. “You’re quiet, Mom. Don’t you have any questions?”

My mom sighs. Here it comes. “Elizabeth, why do you always dress in all black? I mean, it always looks like you’re going to a funeral! And you know I hate nose rings!” Before I can answer, she gets up. “I’m going to the restroom.”

I sigh and look to Renee who is fuming. “So what else do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you haven’t slept him yet!”

I look down and play with the napkin in my lap. “I don’t know. I guess I just want to take things slow? I mean, we’ve fooled around a bit but nothing past second base.” I laugh to myself at the pun.

“Hmm, I get that. You want it to last and you want mutual respect. I’m proud of you, Elizabeth.” She smiles compassionately. “Wait a second!”

Oh shit. “What?”

“One more question… You said that you met him through a client. Who is the client?” She eyes me carefully.

“Renee, you know I can’t tell you that! It’s confidential! I could lose business if word got out I told people!”

“Just tell me: is it a player or a staff member?” Renee’s voice is hushed.

I lower my voice to match hers. “I’m not telling you.”

“Dammit!” She puts her index finger to her chin. “Hmm, someone in the Tigers Clubhouse is into the kinky shit. That’s very, very interesting. Wait a second!”

“Ugh, what now?” I groan, rolling my eyes.

“If you’re seeing Alex Avila… does that mean you’re not working anymore? I mean, how does he feel about your job? Is he into that?”

Shit, I was hoping she wasn’t going to ask. “Well… I am still working and… Alex doesn’t know what I do for a living. And I don’t know if he a sub or dom or whatever!” I bite my lip. I see my mom coming back. “Please don’t tell her!”

“Only if you tell me who you’re servicing on the Tigers.”

I look at my mom and then my sister. “Max Scherzer,” I whisper.

Renee starts to gasp but then she stops herself. I can tell she’s about to burst from the new knowledge. My mom takes her seat and she looks at us suspiciously. Our food comes and we dine with little small talk and awkward glances. We finish our meal and my mom goes for her wallet.  
“No, Mom, I’ll pay.” I grab my purse.

“I’m your mother. I’m paying.”

“Come on, Mom. I just got a bonus. You’ve paid for enough.”

“Oh, like the education that you flushed down the drain?” Her eyes turn dark. “Fine! Pay! I don’t care. I’ll be in the car.” She gets up and leaves.

I sigh and put my debit card on the platter with my receipt. I feel like I was just stabbed with a knife. This is why I don’t come home—too many judgments!

“Don’t listen to her. But listen, if you do really care about Alex and you want to make it work, I would tell him the truth. He obviously won’t be happy about it and I don’t know him but I think you guys can work through it. Oh, and give him some please. If you guys are fooling around, he’s probably going home and doing it himself. Don’t do that to him.” She smiles humorously and then gets up to leave, throwing her purse over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Elizabeth. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah, definitely!”

“Because… I believe you owe me some more details.” She waves and then walks over to the exit.

I sit there for a few minutes, absorbing what just happened. I’m caught in so many lies. My life is a lie. Well, at least my love life is. What am I doing? I pick up my phone and text Alex:

Hey, when is the next time I can see you? I need to tell you something.


	8. A Beautiful Moment

Alex and I approach my door. I turn to face him, smiling. “Would you like to come inside for some coffee?” I put my hands on his chest as he wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me.

“I would love to,” he whispers huskily.

I twist my key in the lock and shove the door open. I toss my purse on the couch and walk over to the kitchen. “Actually… I don’t have any coffee. But I do have some wine.” I smile innocently.

“Sure, that’s sound great.” Alex plops down on the couch, relaxing.

I bring the glasses full of the delicious red liquid over into the living room and I hand the beverage to Alex. I sit down, folding my leg underneath me. I take a sip, my lipstick leaving a stain around a rim.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Alex asks weakly.

I almost choke on my drink. I recover myself and then I clear my throat. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about… us.”

“What do you mean?” Alex’s head tilts to the side.

“I mean… I want to know what you’re thinking about our relationship.”

“Well, what do you think? You obviously have an opinion.” He sips his wine, eyeing me carefully.

I take a deep breath and say a little prayer. “I like you. I really like you. And I like spending time with you. I like… shit, I’m saying ‘like’ a lot.” I can feel myself turn crimson.

Alex smirks kindly. “I like you too.” He takes my hand and gives it a light squeeze.

I put my wine glass down and inch closer to the catcher. I cup his face in my hand and I kiss him tenderly. “I’m ready,” I whisper.

Alex kisses me. “Alright.”

We stand and I lead Alex by the hand to my bedroom. I hope he doesn’t feel my hand shake as we travel across my apartment. I open the door and step over to the foot of the bed and turn around. The only light in the room are a few dimmed lamps. Shadows cast across Alex’s face. He slowly lifts his hand and pulls some hair out my face and I giggle. Alex smiles humorously and kisses me. It starts out soft and sweet but then grows into a rough, passionate embrace.

Alex’s hands move to my back and to the zipper on my dress. I shrug out of the straps and he peels the dress off of me. I go for Alex’s shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. I quickly unzip his pants and shove my hand down them. Alex throws his head back slightly and he inhales sharply. I leave sloppy kisses across his chest as I massage his erection. His fingertips graze softly across the bare skin of my waist and up to my breast. Our lips meet once again and he gently grabs my breast. A moan releases from deep within my throat.

Using my hands to guide me, I back up and slide on the bed. Alex follows, hovering over me. He kisses my lips, my neck, my chest and then my breasts. I rub my fingers through his hair as I shut my eyes, enjoying the moment. I love the feeling of his scratchy facial hair against my skin.  
I have to admit, I have a bit of anxiety in this situation. I’m so used to be the dominator, but here, right now, there is no dominator or submissive. It’s… equal. It’s emotional. It’s beautiful.

“Are you okay, Elizabeth?” Alex asks. “You’re shaking.”

I inhale quickly. “I’m just… nervous.”

Alex leans forward and kisses my forehead. “You don’t need to be nervous. I’m not going to hurt you. If you want to stop at any time, just let me know.”

He’s acting like I’m some innocent lamb. Oh, if only he knew. I’m a ferocious wolf, especially in the bedroom. “Okay.”

Alex kisses once more before moving his lips between my breasts and down my abdomen. He stops at the lining of my panties. My lips quiver and my breath wavers as he slowly pulls them down, leaving soft kisses down my inner thigh. I need him now. I need him inside me. I sit up and put my hands on his face, kissing him. My left hand travels down his chest and I slip my hand back into his boxers.

“C’mon, baby,” I whisper seductively.

Without saying a word, Alex lightly pushes me onto my back. He steps off the bed and removes his boxers.

“Do you have a condom?” He whispers.

“Yeah, I do.” I open my bedside table drawer and pull a little square of foil out and hand it to Alex.

Alex puts the safety net on and climbs back into bed. He kisses up my abdomen and then brushes his lips across mine. Is he teasing me? I lean forward and kiss him passionately as I spread my legs. Alex positions him and then he slides in carefully. I gasp and then freeze. Believe it or not, it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten laid.

Alex kisses my neck; a consolation. He starts slowly pumping into me and it feels like my brain is on fire. It’s painful but it feels so good at the same time. My left hand grips the comforter and I put my right one on Alex’s shoulder. My fingertips dig into his skin, pressing into his muscular back. I bite my lip as my head tilts back and my hips begin to roll. He begins to pump faster, his hands dipping into the mattress on either side of me.

“How does that feel?” He asks huskily.

A small smile spreads across my face. “It feels lovely,” I croak, trying to be as graceful and poised as possible.

Alex’s hand brushes against my cheek and he kisses me once more. He thrusts a few more times and, using some of my strength, I flip Alex over so that I’m on top. He chuckles and immediately puts his hands on my waist. In a feline-esque way, I curl down and push my breasts up. I shove my tongue into Alex’s mouth and his hands slide up my back to the back of my neck. As my hips roll, I pull away and run my hands down Alex’s chest. He pushes his head back into the pillow and grits his teeth, slapping my ass.

“Oh!” I gasp. “Yes, Alex!” I look up to the ceiling as if I’m thanking God.

I grasp Alex’s sides and I roll my whole body, biting my lip as the pleasure continues to build. We both begin to perspire and the rooms feels like a sauna. Everything is moving in slow motion. My head is spinning.

“Faster,” Alex pleads. He reaches up and fondles my breast.

I put my hand over his and make him squeeze harder. I speed up, faster and faster. The ache between my legs is becoming stronger and stronger.

“Fuck!” I cry out. “Yes, oh God, yes!”

Deep grunts release from Alex’s chest. “Oh fuck, Elizabeth,” he groans.

I almost collapse but I put my arms out on top of Alex to hold myself up. It starts within my limbs—the light, airiness that moves through the rest of my body. My skin flushes and I feel cold and hot at the same time. I let out quick, noisy exhales as my mouth gapes open and my hip rolls grow more rigid. A sensational pressure forms behind my forehead and then travels around my skull. That ache becomes almost unbearable and I cry out incoherent phrases. A wave of pleasure washes over me and I ride it out as long as I can and I’m done.

I keep going, noticing that Alex is almost there as well. I keep pushing for him even though I’m spent. He throws his head back and stares into my eyes. I keep thrusting and pushing while Alex mutters words of satisfaction. He lifts himself up off the bed, yelling out as he finishes. Alex then eases back down onto the mattress and his eyes close.

I lean down and kiss him lightly on the lips and I lean down further and kiss his earlobe. I then lift myself up off of him and take the condom off. I notice that it tore a little bit. I start to panic but I quickly throw it away. I don’t say anything as to not freak Alex out. I collapse on my side next to the catcher. He rolls over to face me and smiles. Alex places his hand firmly on my cheek.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi,” he mimics.

As I stare into Alex’s kind eyes in the dim light, I feel something that I have never felt before. I can’t quite put my finger on it but it feels wonderful. I haven’t felt this close to someone in forever. It’s such a different experience with Alex. It’s beautiful and romantic and perfect. I feel so close to him in this moment.

As unsuspected tears well in my eyes, I curl up next to Alex to keep him from seeing me in this state. Alex puts his arm around my shoulders and I rest my head on his chest. I blink back the tears, trying to keep myself together. A strike of guilt hits me like a cannonball. Maybe Renee is right—should I tell him? A pit forms in my stomach and I feel lightheaded all of a sudden. There’s a war inside my head but I put my guilt down, not wanting to ruin the moment.

I hear the soft growl of Alex’s snoring and I smile to myself. I prop myself up on my elbow and lightly kiss his lips. “Goodnight,” I whisper. I lay back down, pressed against Alex and soon, I fall asleep.


End file.
